Demi-Sin of Deceit: Part Two
Destiny

Destiny

The city was silent as I gazed over it, only ten minutes until the battle, Nihila already down there, rallying the soldiers to sit back and do nothing- The city was silent as I gazed over it, only ten minutes until Tiskial returned, Tatiana downstairs speaking with him. I could hear their voices through the thin walls of the Ordeallan Palace.

Ten minutes until he tortured me again, the wounds he’d already given me barely going cold. I definitely had a broken wrist, my hand hanging limply in the chain that contained it. I was fairly certain that my right thigh was fractured, too. It thrummed with pain whenever I shifted my position, seated on the small chair they had given me, chaining me to it like a rabid animal.

I could remember being captured, after my final, grand plan with Zeella, where I’d sacrificed myself to nobly save everybody else. I had exited the portal that Evalin had given me, only to be arrested, Tatiana having known my ploy all along.

The rest of the months had flown by, just day after day of torture, night after night of interrogations, until I could barely remember the truth amid all the lies I’d spouted. They hated that- that I could lie so easily, without a break in my voice, or a sliver of hesitation. They had no way of telling truth from lie until they investigated it.

Every time, they found it to be lies, and every time, Tiskial would be sent in, and I’d endure another day of torture. Diseases created by the Vampire-Fae Alchemist injected into me, poisons being force-fed until I was nearly on deaths door, and they would finally give me the antidotes- there had even been threats to track down and kill my family. How had they known everything? Cain had made CERTAIN that nobody so much as knew my name! The mirage had been perfect, flawless!

Cain… I was in the Manor.

I could tell from the pattern on the ceiling, the pattern I had spent centuries staring at, waiting for assignments, procrastinating on paperwork, or even just plain bored.

And Cain was…

I rolled over in bed, blinking at the wide-open curtains, the silk pinned back against the wall to reveal a dark sky outside, my room mostly emptied, aside from large pieces of furniture. Even the silk bedsheets that I was laying on were different. Trying to forget the memory of my time in Ordeallan, I rubbed at my head, groaning. Something felt off. Was I getting sick? I’d been carried through Caliem, after all, by-

Cain had- Oh, Hell below… Cain was dead.

He wasn’t like me, able to come back. He was gone. Forever.

And all because I was stupid enough to get caught.

The window in my vision swam, warped by the tears that formed, and I sat up, opening my mouth to call for someone- Nym, Lydiav- Bal’gag would comfort me, despite not knowing much of personal deaths himself.

Except… They were gone too.

I didn’t bother to muffle the scream of frustration that ripped from my throat, the pillow I had tossed slamming into my bathroom door, those burning hot tears spilling over as I turned to grab something, anything, to throw. My fingers wrapped around an unlit candle on my bedside table, and I watched it shatter against the door, the fragments of vanilla and pumpkin showering over the silk.

Why had they gone and died?! They’d left me here, alone! They were meant to protect me, not go and die like fools! My nails bit into the skin at the palm of my hands, my fingers clenching tightly, and I grabbed another object- a decorative paperweight, and flung it through the window, the glass crashing down just as hard as my thoughts struck me, the cold seeping into my bones.

And Cain! Cain was the best general Caliem had! How the Hell could he have let himself die?!

He’d let himself be taken down by a mere FAERY!

A knock on the door had me stiffen in fear out of reflex, my fingers reaching for where Inferos would have been, only to replace it missing. It had been taken by Tatiana on that first night in Ordeallan.

My fears were confirmed when Zeella’s quiet voice echoed through my door, the Sin of Lust having entered through my chambers without detection, “Destiny?”

Destiny, not Desterium. He never called me that, hadn’t called me ‘Destiny’ since Sarah had died, and on the rare occasion that he had, it had always been to mock me, or patronise me. This time- It didn’t matter. Cain was gone. I didn’t give a shit what Zeella chose to call me. I couldn’t move. I was frozen, the only movement my tears steadily rolling down my face, the only sound my quiet sobs. I leaned against the windowsill, not looking to see if there was glass, not checking to see if it had sliced my numb fingers. My entire body felt numb; muffled.

He knocked again, persistent, and somewhere, I managed to hear that knock, managed to make a note of how odd it was. Normally, if I didn’t open the door, he just swore and left. This time, he’d remained.

“I know you’re upset- No, more than upset, devastated, but I wanted to bring you something.”

“Cain’s dead,” I seethed, that boiling pit of anger turning toward the man at my door, the man who had ordered me into The Borderlands in the first place, “And you want to give me a gift?!”

The sounds outside the door paused, and something slid under my door. Outside, the wind sent a whirl of snow across the fields of Caliem.

Still, Zeella remained.

Gritting my teeth, I wiped the tears from my eyes, stalking over to the door, where a single piece of paper laid on the ground, stamped with a seal I recognised well. It was Lilith’s family crest, if a family was what you could call it, and I closed my eyes for a moment. I knew what it was before Zeella could say, “It’s Cain’s will. I did all the paperwork already, signed off all the appropriate deals. It’s up to you what you do with it, but… I wanted you to know that he left you everything.”

Of course he would have! Of course my cousin would have rather chosen to give me everything after he’d died, rather than just fight harder to stay alive! A final gift to try and lighten the pain of his leaving me behind.

Selfish, useless asshole! I was going to spit on his grave once Zeella took me to it.

Zeella continued to stand at the door, another minute passing before he said, “When you’re ready to face the world again, however long that may be, I’ll be in my study.”

With that, he turned away, his footsteps fading.

I waited until I couldn’t hear them to let out the sob I had been holding back, bending to pick Cain’s will from the ground, my bloodied fingers leaving their prints on it, fragments of glass still poking out from my palm. It was written entirely by him, his handwriting more than familiar to me, but before I could get through the first few words- ‘This is the last will and testament of Cain Maladur’ I clenched my fingers again, furious, but unable to crush the note.

He’d left everything to me, except for his life.

He’d always promised that, if it came down to it, he would give his life for me, and I’d believed him, but I had never considered that he would actually get the opportunity to prove that.

Suddenly feeling hollow, I strode back toward my bed, gently placing the will onto my bedside table, before crawling in between the sheets, curling up, my entire body numb.

I’d wanted him to be lying, about giving his life for me. I’d wanted it to be an empty promise, even back then, when it was nothing more than words.

Now, I wanted it to be a lie more than anything.

Grappling with my emotions, I reached blindly out for the note, drawing it in closer, as if holding it to my chest would somehow restart Cain’s heart, and I curled around it, closing my eyes…

*

The second knock at my door came around midday, the watery rays that Caliem called sunlight filtering in through the broken window, sending reflective rainbows up the walls of my room.

I’d been awake ever since Zeella had visited, watching the sun rise, Cain’s will still tucked close to my heart, the crumpled piece of paper warm in my hands. I placed it aside, sitting up slowly, rubbing at my head.

“Princess Destiny Maladur? My name is Xarran Rarkamad, thirdborn son of-”

I sat up, glaring at the shadow that poked under my door, along with the red flicker of whatever powers Xarran possessed. A wisp of my powers sent it flying back under the door, only the shadow remaining.

“If the next sentence that comes out of your mouth is, ‘I wish to have your hand,’ let it be known that I will happily slit your throat.” The hate-filled words slid from my tongue easily, and to my surprise, Xarran laughed darkly.

“So you ARE as evil as he promised, huh? I’m not here for your hand in marriage, Princess, although I won’t deny the appeal considering your line of work. Your father hired me.”

“As. What.” I bit out, Xarran’s shadow remaining still throughout it all. If I had to place his height, I would say he was almost as tall as Cain, not quite as well-toned, but well enough that I pinned him for either a soldier or an Assassin like myself. It didn’t matter either way. The last thing I wanted was a conversation with someone!

Xarran’s shadow shrugged under my door, the first movement he had made since approaching. If Zeella had hired him, then it meant Xarran had something he thought I would replace valuable enough not to kill.

“Guardian, personal knife, shadow- whatever you prefer, I suppose. I’m not opposed to killing.”

I’m not opposed to killing. The thought ran across my mind, dragging an interesting train of thought behind it. No, I supposed there weren’t many people in the Manor opposed to killing.

And then… Guardian. That was where the train of thought ended, blown up and pushed down a cliff to its demise.

“You aren’t my Guardian,” I snarled, “I have three already.”

Xarran shrugged again, his voice clear and tremor free as he said, “If that’s what you wish, Princess. That leaves two options- Personal knife, or shadow?” I blinked in surprise, having half-expected him to remind me that Nym, Lydiav and Bal’gag were dea- Gone. I waited a moment, wondering if he would add it, and when he didn’t, I said, “I have my own shadow, and one is quite enough.”

Xarran huffed another laugh, and I grit my teeth. Was this a gift from Zeella, or another trick?

And just what kind of gift? A murder handed to me on a silver platter, a misguided attempt to hire me another Guardian, or an actual personal blade?

There was someone I wanted dead.

A gift, then. I wasn’t strong enough to kill Syrphien myself, not if he’d brought down Cain… Besides, I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself from killing all of them after what they’d done to Cain. But Xarran… I needed to know more about him, and once I knew if he was good for the assignment I had, I would go right back to bed.

“Did you attend the Dome?” I questioned, and Xarran replied, “Certainly, and a Guardian training course under Devin’s guidance, but you aren’t asking me about that.” No, I certainly wasn’t.

“What was your rating?”

“I scored an eighty-three, Princess.”

Eighty-three… That was one above Cain’s score, and two below my own. Deadly, then.

“What did you specialise in? What weapons?”

“Swords, mostly, but I’m good with everything.”

Tossing the blanket aside, I stood, padding over to the door barefoot, my powers unlocking it and throwing it open.

Xarran stood on the other side, staring down at me with curiosity as a delighted, sadistic smile stretched across his face. I didn’t return it.

There was indeed a sword strapped to his back, a leather strap sitting on top of a clean black shirt that was only a few shades darker than his skin, hair, and eyes. I blinked, taking a step back before I could stop myself. Possessed. He was possessed, and in his twenties. Swallowing, I stepped back into my vacated space, my stomach roiling.

Xarran bowed, announcing, “Worry not, Princess. I have that impression on people when they see my eyes. I’m sure you receive similar reactions.”

I blinked again, trying to more accurately place his age. He was definitely over ten. How was he alive?

Why didn’t I care? Why was I not already forming a blade from my powers behind my back, preparing to spear him with it?

“I’ll reintroduce myself, if you please? My name is Xarran Rarkamad, thirdborn son of Lord Goliath Rarkamad, possessed by Astaroth, the Demon Lord of Seduction.” He winked, sketching a bow, and giving me a good look at the two daggers he had strapped to his back on either side of his sword, hidden by his cloak. Glowering at him a moment longer, I turned away, striding toward my desk. Someone had left paper and a pen on it, and I picked up a piece, scrawling a single name on it. Folding it in half, I opened my mouth to give him his first order just as I heard paper being smoothed out near my bed.

“I heard about your cousin, and I offer my condolences. I did not know him, but I knew his division. It was legendary.”

Was. It WAS legendary. It also WAS my division. I supposed they were dead, too.

I pressed my lips together, straightening my back, and Xarran added, “I also offer my services as an Assassin to yourself. I will gladly eliminate his murderer.”

I held the piece of paper over my shoulder, hissing, “Then do it. Do a good job, and I may consider hiring you fulltime. Screw it up,” I swung to glare at him, noting that he still didn’t flinch, “And I will gut you. Go.”

Xarran plucked the paper from my hands, placing Cain’s will down, and purring, “I’ll be back as soon as the job is done…” He strode over to my door, his dark eyes flashing as he added, “I’ll bring you his head as proof.”

The doors slammed shut, and I let go of a heavy breath, sliding down and sitting against the wall. Xarran had placed Cain’s will on the table beside me.

Clearly needing to torture myself, I blindly reached for it, my hand fumbling around on the table until I found it and dragged it down.

This is the last will and testament of Cain Adam Maladur, written August twentieth, in my thirteenth year of life on Earth.

I write this will sound of mind, under my own free will and with no outside influences. This will replace any previous promises, treaties, blood oaths or legal documents that I wrote prior to my death.

At the time of this last will and testament, I am considered the guardian of Desterium Rosalia Maladur, am unmarried, and have no betrothals to speak of.

I hereby announce the Lords of Hell, as well as Lilith of Hell, as my executors, and Alishan Maladur as my guardian for Desterium Rosalia Maladur (Destiny), should I pass. Hereby referred to as ‘Destiny Maladur’.

Upon my death, I hereby request that the following assets be divided up and given to those I name in the following paragraphs:

A grand total of one-million gold will be divided and gifted to:

-Desterium Rosalia Maladur, to the total of five-hundred-thousand gold, which is to be placed in a trust fund until she reaches the status of immortality.

- A grand sum of fifty-thousand gold, which is to be used to purchase property for Destiny Maladur, and given to her upon her reaching immortality.

-My earthly possessions given to Destiny Maladur, to do with what she pleases.

-Any further assets acquired from here on out are to be given to Destiny Maladur upon her becoming immortal.

Upon my death, I request that my body be properly buried in an informal ceremony, of which Destiny is allowed to attend, and my gravestone placed in an easily accessed, non-muddy area. (So she doesn’t ruin her nice clothes, because for the love of Hell, I truly don’t wish to do anymore washing). In witness to this will and testament, you will replace the following statement from Alishan Maladur:

I hereby witness this to be the final will and testament of Cain Adam Maladur, and sign it of my own free will, with no outside influences.

-Alishan Maladur.

-Cain Maladur

A tear fell onto the page, smudging the ink, and I realised that I was crying, the world around me blurring once again. Cain really was gone. I was holding his will- a legal document that I wasn’t allowed to see until after his death. For me to be holding this, he really must be gone…

He hadn’t updated it since Earth, obviously not expecting to die.

Sniffling, I rubbed the tears from my eyes, only for fresh ones to replace them, and a second later, dissolved into a sobbing mess once again.

Cain had given me everything he owned, including a property that I presumed was somewhere in Korath, when the only thing I wanted was a hug from him.